


Come Back to Me

by wilddragonflying



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 3x11 AU, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 16:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilddragonflying/pseuds/wilddragonflying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an alternate version of season 3, episode 11, Stiles doesn't tell Scott about his dad-- He tells him to tell Derek he loves him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Back to Me

“Derek, I’m sorry.”

Derek stared at the still form beneath the surface of the water; the ice had long since melted. Absently, he thought about the fact that this was most likely the longest that Stiles had ever been still.

“Derek?”

Derek turned to look at Scott; the beta—almost an alpha, now—smelled fearful. “What?” It was the first word Derek had spoken since arriving at the veterinarian’s office, only to find Allison and Scott awake, and Stiles still under.

“Stiles told me to tell you something, if—if he didn’t—“

“ _What?_ ” Now Derek turned on the other wolf, his eyes flashing.

Scott winced. “He told me to tell you he loved you,” he mumbled.

***  
“Scott, if I make it out, and you do—Tell Derek I love him. Please?”

Scott had stared at Stiles in shock. Not over the fact that Stiles was in love with Derek—it was obvious, even to Scott, and God knew he could be oblivious—but over the fact that Stiles thought he wouldn’t make it back.

“You can tell him yourself,” Scott said, forcing his mouth into what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Stiles stared at the beaten bade in his hand. “I won’t get the chance,” he said quietly.

They were shoved under before Scott got the chance to respond.

***  
Derek stared at Scott in disbelief. “Stiles—“ He choked on the grief welling up from his chest. Stiles _loved_ him? _Him_? Derek stared at the tub, unseeing. Another chance, slipped through his fingers. He’d thought—But he’d convinced himself he was imagining things, convinced himself that he was so lonely that he was projecting. Because there was no way that Stiles, brilliant, spastic, annoying, _incredible_ Stiles, would love Derek back. He just wouldn’t.

Derek stumbled forward, falling to his knees beside the tub that Stiles was still laying in—still _dead_ in. “Can he be brought back?” Derek managed to whisper, looking up at Deaton helplessly.

Deaton considered it. “He still has some time,” he said hesitantly. “But at this point, whatever brings him back will have to be strong—“

Derek closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the edge of the tub, not even feeling the cold metal. He didn’t know what he’d do if he couldn’t bring Stiles back, couldn’t tell Stiles that he loved him—But he had to try. 

Derek shuffled closer to the tub, cautiously reaching in with one hand. He hissed—the water was still ice-cold—but he didn’t flinch; he reached for Stiles’s face, cupping the teen’s cheek in one hand. “Stiles,” he murmured, watching Stiles’s face anxiously. “Stiles, please, you’ve gotta wake up—We need you. _I_ need you. You’re not—you’re not alone. Please, Stiles, wake up; I don’t want to tell you I love you when you’re still under the water.”

Nothing happened for several long moments, and Derek was almost ready to give up—Then Stiles lunged forward, breaking the surface of the water, gasping and spluttering. Derek hauled him bodily out of the tub, not caring about the water soaking his own clothes. He grabbed the towel Isaac held out, rubbing it briskly over Stiles.

“Oh god, Stiles, you scared the hell out of us,” he growled, bringing the towel up to run it over Stiles’s hair.

“N-never m-mind that,” Stiles chattered, reaching out and grabbing Derek’s face hurriedly, searching. “Did y-you m-mean it? You l-love me?”

Derek paused, looking at Stiles carefully. “I meant it,” he murmured. “I love you.”

When Stiles leaned forward and kissed him, it was cold, Stiles’s lips were chapped, and Derek wouldn’t trade it for any other kiss in the world. They didn’t pull back too far from each other after the kiss, and Derek pressed a kiss to Stiles’s forehead before resuming his previous task of drying Stiles off.

“Thank you,” Stiles said, smiling.

“No problem,” Derek replied. “You think I was going to just let Scott go off on his own after the Darach?”

Stiles laughed. “Yes, because that’s the _real_ reason you were so desperate to bring me back,” he teased.

Derek grinned. “Of course.”


End file.
